


The Summer of 2013 (and so many years past)

by Pres310



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abstract, Abusive Parents, Asexual Character, Asexual Ford Pines, Bill Cipher Being Bill Cipher, Character Study, F/F, Flashbacks, Ford Pines Needs a Hug, Forgiveness, Gay Ford Pines, Hallucinations, Journal Pages, LGBTQ Themes, LGBTQ history, Lesbian Mabel Pines, Lesbian Pacifica Northwest, M/M, Manipulation, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poetry, Queer Stan Pines, Reconciliation, Recovering Fiddleford H. McGucket, Trans Dipper Pines, a lot of this is about Ford, bill meddles in fords/fidds relationship, but I did want to incorporate the other characters, everybody needs a hug, lots of em - Freeform, recovering from trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 21:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30062094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pres310/pseuds/Pres310
Summary: It's the summer of 2013- and finally, everybody takes a look back at years long past.
Relationships: Bill Cipher & Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher & Fiddleford H. McGucket, Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines & Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Ford Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket/Ford Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Pacifica Northwest/Mabel Pines
Kudos: 7





	The Summer of 2013 (and so many years past)

**Author's Note:**

> A major rewrite of my last gravity falls fanfic

A Midsummer Night’s Dream; when the night has grown short and air warm, when crows and songbirds are plentiful and moths have emerged from their cocoons to play. When new faces have come to town, eager to catch a glance at the mysteries of the mountains and woods, when new faces become ripe and plentiful pickings for mischievous fae. Summer has crowned herself queen, taking the sun, high in the sky, as her crown and the moon as her lover, our two ladies of the sky sneaking secret affections under lavender sunset. The earth and all its curiosities can stretch out and relax like a cat in sunlight, greenery in full and verdant bloom.

  
Two men, recently married and recently retired (their local police precinct having been defunded), stood on a pier over a lake cradled by green hills. The waves caught the light and shifted a hypnotic blue-green, swift creatures and unseen, scaley beasts lurking low beneath the surface. They stumbled and laughed their way through attempts at fishing- any lack of results being no fault of their own, but simply at the shallow depths they fished out of containing very little fish.

  
A woman with silver hair and baby blue eyeshadow set a pie to cool on the windowsill, watching it diligently for a few moments before returning to work. The inviting smell of spiced apples and crisp, buttery crust the color of treasure wafted out into the surrounding pine woods, enticing any and all crafty thieves to swipe the fine pastry away.

  
A young girl frantically yet excitedly dashed about her room, seemingly random articles of clothing thrown on her bed. She carded a hand through her blonde hair, recently cut short- she’d never known that she’d had wavy hair until all the extra weight was removed- and her darker roots finally allowed to grow in, before tying it away from her face. She doesn't dwell on the fact that she’s no longer living with her parents, or why, or how that feels- that's a breakdown for another day- no. Instead, she was dwelling rather intensely on what to wear when she meets her long-distance girlfriend for the first time in over a year. 

  
A newly-adult woman makes her way towards her summer internship, internally cursing herself for running late (despite arriving a day early). She greets the owner on the way in with a high-five, before hopping behind the counter. Business as usual, as usual as it could be in this town.

  
In a mansion somewhere at the top of a hill, an old genius with (slightly) healing posture scampers about- he had so much space, but absolutely no clue what to do with it all! Who would ever need this many rooms and all this decorum? Perhaps…

  
His Friends!

  
Two brothers, roughly in their sixties and fresh off of a year of adventuring, step back onto the shores of Oregon for the first time in months. Shaky on legs used to the rocky sea, they bicker their way through renting a car to take them to a little town known for its mysteries- old habits die hard, of course, and both have to make up for lost memory and time.

  
Two twins anxiously waste time as they take a bus ride to their destination for the summer- after all that had happened, how could they not come up to visit every year?

  
One twin, an excitable young girl, knitted a sweater with impressive- and concerning- speed and vigor. Her needles were practically flying, Violet yarn knitting itself together swiftly. She mostly ignored her brother’s ramblings about… what was it, moths? Mothman? Either way, she had a gift to work on!

  
The other twin, a boy anxiously running his hand over a small picture frame, bounced his knee and rambled excitedly about the recent Mothman sightings along the shore of Oregon. He realized that Mabel likely wasn't listening anymore, but the stream of noise and being able to get his thoughts out was calming. He looked down at the framed picture- last summer, every member of what his sister deemed the “Gravity Falls Crew” crowded, beaming and laughing, into a photo.

  
And in the woods somewhere, there is a statue of you. You are composed of stone, harmless and dead to the world. A monarch butterfly lands just above your eye, and vines crawl over your simple body. A testament to everybody who survived you.

  
*.*.*

  
It's the first full morning in the Mystery Shack- everybody’s here! Everybody’s home!

  
A morning in the Mystery Shack, from the Attic and all the way down.

  
Mabel Pines stirred in her bed, greeting the morning with the creaking of her bed as she excitedly jumped and landed on the floorboards. The activity stirred the pet at the end of her bed, who let out a groggy and disgruntled grunt at being woken up. The bouncy and bright girl rushed over to shake the shoulder of her brother.

  
“Dipper! Wake up! We’re here!” She stage-whispered.

“We’ve been here since we arrived last night,” he groaned. “Or more accurately- earlier this morning.”

  
“Come ooon, dipping stick,” she tried poking his ribs until he swatted her hand away. “We haven't seen our grunkles in a whole year! And besides- it's noon!”

  
Dipper began to groan, before realization cut it short. His eyes fluttered open as he slowly turned to face his sister, an intrigued spark in his eyes. Inch by inch, a smile began to spread across his features.

  
“Fine,” he flopped out of bed. “I guess we did sleep in pretty late.” 

  
Mabel laughed, before tossing his chest binder his way. “Hey, at least I got you to sleep for once!”

  
Downstairs, with the younger pair of twins still in their pajamas and eagerly waiting at the kitchen table, Stanley Pines flipped pancakes with ease on a lazy morning. The cheap “just add water!” Krusteaz mix wasn't the best- the store was out of bisquick and it was way too late in the night when he bought it to run some place else- but it was edible and somewhat tasty (butter definitely helped). The stack of pancakes the color of autumn maple leaves stood high on their throne made up of a paper plate, curling steam crowning their shiny faces. 

  
There were still some days when Stan’s memory felt moth-eaten, mostly intact but with some… less than pleasant holes. Some days were better than others. But today, everything was familiar, and he wasn't faced with anything new or upsetting that had been previously wiped… clean… away…

  
Outside the house area of the cabin, the Mystery Shack’s Tourist Trap was still closed. It typically didn't open until noon on the weekends, but after the family had rolled in late the previous night, Soos had decided not to open back up until next Monday. Let everybody take it easy, he’d said. Have some days to rest and recharge.

  
Soos, the man himself, and Melody had already eaten and left the Shack long before any of the Pines Family had awoken that morning. The two were out looking for sky-fishing equipment, eager to attract any of the strange and unusual insects that called Gravity Falls their home (and possibly to attract the Mothman, if moth was feeling generous). 

  
Beneath the floorboards of the Mystery Shack, the light grew dim and the air grew warm. Breaths grew damp deep inside the earth, and mechanical bells and whistles… had long since died down. A few machines still clattered to life sometimes, yes, but most of the machinery had long since died out. For good. For the better.

  
Stanford Pines didn't have much to experiment on that day, aside from his own thoughts and emotions, and not much energy to experiment if he did have something that intrigued him. Instead, he kept rotating a box in his hands, an old plastic container that had somehow survived the decades being left alone. Inside the dirty and cloudy plastic, he could see a number of things- pages nearly completely burned away. Photographs. A few thick and heavily stuffed envelopes, and most gut-wrenching of all- postcards. Years of postcards, all from places dotting the southern United States, all written in either scratchy handwriting or the rare blocky letters of a child’s writing. 

  
Ford has always been a man of science.

  
He knows opening this box won't kill him, but it might as well.

  
You know what's in that box and why it's there- it's a good thing you no longer have a brain or a mouth to think it, to tell us.

  
Elsewhere, Gravity Falls is either waking up or already going about their day (without you). A family has a soft place to land, a nice morning free of holes in memory or pain in hearts or the scent of death on a name no longer used.


End file.
